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The first building I walk into is the Admissions one. I wave at the woman at the front desk apologetically and then head back out onto the street.
Sydney might not even be on campus, since it’s a Saturday. But every time I’ve talked to her on the weekends, she’s been here. She doesn’t seem to spend much time at the shoebox she calls an apartment. Not that I blame her. My freshman year dorm room was bigger.
The next building I enter is the student center. I pass a bookstore and a coffee shop before I spot my sister.
She’s laughing with two other girls on a sectional couch.
Laughter that comes to an abrupt stop when I approach.
“Well,hello there,” one of the girls says, looking me up and down. It’s an interest I’ve gotten used to over the years. As much as you can get used to it, I guess. Sometimes it’s entertaining. Annoying at others.
This is the former, since Sydney has always been irritated when her friends showed any interest in me. I think the only reason she was okay with Cassia is that she saw us grow up together. Before my high school idiocy, Cassia and I were closer friends than she and Sydney were.
Or maybe she saw the same thing I realized—Cassia was always going to beitfor me.
“He’s taken, Ruby,” Sydney says, rolling her eyes. “This is my brother, Holden. Holden, this is Ruby—” She points to the brunette. “And Bella.” Sydney nods to the friend with overalls and a bob.
“Verynice to meet you, Holden.” Ruby smirks, then stands. “We’ll let you two catch up.”
Bella waves at me and follows Ruby toward the coffee shop.
“What are you doing here?” Sydney asks, eyebrows raised. “Is everything okay?”
I take the open seat next to her, glancing around the space a little more. There’s a wide array of artwork hanging on the walls, a clash of color and styles that’s visually shocking. All student work, I assume.
“Everything is okay,” I answer. “I just wanted to come…check in.”
“What, you were in the neighborhood?”
Aside from moving Sydney in and out of the series of small, shitty apartments she’s lived in, I’ve never visited her during the school year. We’ve always had separate interests that translated into separate lives. I play sports; she makes art. I like small towns; she lives in a big city. I draw attention; she avoids it. We’re as different as Cassia and her sister, Maggie.
“No, I wasn’t.”
I didn’t tell her I was coming because I didn’t want her to ask why. Didn’t want to get into anything I came to tell her over the phone.
“Okay…”
“Can I buy you some brunch?” I ask. “Your choice.”
“I didn’t think you knew what brunch was.” She hikes her oversized bag up on one shoulder. “Is Cassia with you?”
“No. She’s in Pembrooke to see her family.”
“If you’d told me, I could have taken the train to see you guys. You didn’t need to come here.”
“It’s not that far.”
Sydney raises one eyebrow but doesn’t argue. “There’s a great bagel place down the block. Wanna go there?”
“Sure. Sounds good.”
“Okay.”
We exit the building and head down the street. The endless swirl of commotion around us that makes it challenging to keep up a conversation. Sydney is unbothered, so I guess you get used to it.
Horns blare. Workers shout. Construction equipment clangs.
I half-yell over the noise to ask Sydney a few basic questions about school as we walk. Over the years, I’ve heard her share enough to have some sense of which questions to ask about the production she’s working on.
